Cover that Soul!

The concept of NO is a very hard concept to understand and accept even at my age today.

We gradually learn the dynamics of NO as we grow older but it's still a bitter pill to swallow. In any relationship, wife/husband, parent/child, friend/friend, NO becomes a give and take.

"Ok, if NO, then what about...."

"NO? Come on, let's talk about this...."

"NO way! Well, let me think about it...."

NO is an ultimate phrase but many variations exist by way of sacrifice and compromise.

I was used to hearing NO from a young age. Ironically, most children's first words revolve around the things their parents teach them. Mama, Papa, Dada, Baba. Some combination of a consonant and vowel.

My first word was NO. Does anyone wonder where that came from?

Hint: Not my mother. Even when I was babbling as a baby, it was a succession of "No,no,no,no,no,no" at all times. Happy, sad and mad, NO was a popular outlet.

After my father argued with the doctor about my lack of ability to speak, I am positive he took it all back when I mastered the art of arguing. There were many conversations where I would be interrupted mid-sentence with a flat NO from my father.

"But you don't know what I am going to ask!" I stomped my foot and crossed my arms. My father would hold up his hand and simply say NO. Usually, there was no explanation given and it was "just because I said NO". His flat refusals were not enough for me. NO was always followed by 'why?'

At four years of age, my negotiating skills were weak and my suppression of anger even weaker. Throughout the many attempts I made to turn the NO
into a YES, I was presented with my father's stone face and intimidating glare. But I would never show my trepidation in his presence. After his NO, I would run to my mother and bury my head in her bosom.

"Mama, does Daddy EVER say YES?"

I waited for the day where I would not have to argue, state my case or stomp my feet to hear YES. If he ever said YES in my presence, I would think he was inexplicably ill.

"Daddy, Shanta is going to the circus and she has tickets for me. We just have to pay $10" I said to him, breathless after running back home to collect the cash.

He looked at me with anger and raised his eyebrow. Here it comes...

"Enough of this running out at all times. NO. You are not going to the circus and you are grounded today. You will not leave this house for the entire day."

I muffled a cry while my father watched my drama unfold. I flung myself on the couch, then kicked my feet and threw the cushions across the room. My father lifted his paper and ignored me. I ran over to him and grabbed his knees, pleading with him to let me go to the circus.

"But why? Why? Why?" I sobbed.

"Because I said so. NO means NO. Don't ask me why," he barked. "Why do you want to go to the circus? The way you are behaving is a circus. YOU WILL STAY HOME..." He abruptly stood up and left the room.

I had to go to that circus. I imagined Shanta sitting in the front row, enjoying the show, the cotton candy and seeing the animals up close. I had every right to be there with her. For some reason, my father did not think I deserved to be there. I remember frantically looking in my bedroom for the tickets. We had received free ones in the paper and we put them away in a special place. The ignorant me thought that it was a question of money. The smarter, more latent me knew that my wandering ways invoked anger and frustration in my father. I sat on my bed and cried while my mother continued to look for the tickets.

I do not remember what happened next but I was told years later that I had escaped from the house only to be missing for an hour. I returned home one hour later after a call from a neighbour down the street had confirmed a sighting....

Being painfully shy for most of my childhood, I was shocked to learn that I was found by my father, completely naked in the street. He brought me home, very ashamed and now fully aware that he was dealing with a very shrewd negotiator. My mother told me later that I was non-responsive upon my return home, tears streaking my face. She was so perturbed by my state that she sat my father down and tore a strip off of him. A very rare moment for her.

Although I did not go to the circus, the word NO was now always followed by an explanation. My mother had gotten through to him...well sort of.

My actions bared my soul--among other things. Something he never wanted to see again.